One Night Stand
by silentnights626
Summary: Sam has a one night stand to forget...


**Hi. So this is a one shot that just popped into my mind last night after the show. I only watched the first half hour of the show (I guess I'll get around to watching the second) and the performance of My love is your love. But of the first half hour, the main thing that stuck out to me was that Sam admitted he was not a virgin (thanks for the new info) and he connected it to his previous occupation. So I wrote a one shot dealing with that. I have my own thoughts on all of that but you didn't come in here for all of that LOL. So here's the one shot. **

**So as we all should know by now I don't own Glee, any of these characters, blah blah blah (If I did season 2 and 3 would have played out so differently) Oh yeah and please forgive any and all typos. I kinda just shot all of this down on virtual paper.**

**As always: Read, Enjoy, and Review.**

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Sam sat on the edge of the bed staring at his old worn in black Chucks. He ran his fingers over the seams of the old cheaply made floral comforter as he pushed out of his mind what he was there to do. The scent of pervious patrons seemed to linger in the air as he mentally got a feel for his surroundings. The smell was a mix of smoked cigarettes, the joining of bodies, broken dreams, and bleach trying to hide what had really happened. It was a smell he'd gotten use to when he was forced to make a room no different from the one he was in his residence back in Lima.

"Want a swig?" Sam looked up to find a hand adorned with light pink acrylic nails wrapped around a glass containing whiskey. He silently shook his head no refusing. Even though it held no hold on him now that he was gone, he still held himself to the contract that Mr. Shue set for him when asking him not to drink.

He looked up to the hand holding the glass and looked into the eyes of the woman he accompanied to the room. She was an older woman, Sam would assume in her late 30's although when he met her in Stallions he guessed she was only 21. He'd learned quickly how to compliment a woman to get what he wanted, even if he knew it wasn't the truth. She had dirty blonde hair tussled in waves that fell just past her shoulders. She wore a silk like graphic wrap dress that resembled something he saw in an old 70's film he'd watched with his dad once. Her arms jingled as the bangle bracelets she wore crashed into each other as she brought the glass to her lightly glossed lips with a shrug sighing "Welp more for me" She was pretty for an older woman, and he could tell she was probably really beautiful when she was his age. But time, and experience had aged her.

Who he could conceive she was, was one of the reasons he'd chosen to finally accept one of the many offers he'd received since he started stripping. To the teasing and shock of many of his co-workers, he had never taken any of his client's proposals for taking his "talents" outside of the walls of the club. They claimed it was because he was scared, nervous for whatever reasons they conjured up in their heads, when really he was far from it. And though he knew they would later pride themselves for "pressuring" him into it, Sam as a man who didn't wilt to peer-pressure, left that night with her for selfish reasons.

She strolled over to the table in the room sitting the now empty glass down. She then sauntered over and sat down next to him on the lumpy overly used mattress, placing her hand on his knee. She slowly traced her hand on the outside of his jeans, feeling the fabric brush by her finger tips as they maneuvered their way up towards his crotch. He grabbed her hand before she got to his zipper, a slightly involuntary reflex to her touch. He finally looked into her light brown eyes, though he remained silent.

"Well, I guess this isn't going to happen" she sighed more put out by his action than disappointed."It's okay sweetheart" she said in a soothing voice, he imagined she would use with a scared child. "I understand" For some reason her voice angered Sam as he took her for being condescending. He wasn't a child anymore and hadn't felt like one for months. He had financially provided for his family by himself. And although his father was now working, they still looked to him to contribute to bills and necessities. He was a man, and for some odd reason, became resolute to prove it this stranger he was.

He took her hand, and placed it at her side. He gruffly grabbed her by her neck, tilting her head skyward, exposing her jugular. He pressed his lips to her without a word, tasting the salt on her skin, smelling the alcohol that seeped through her pours. He shut his eyes tight as his lips moved across her skin. She moaned deeply as he slowly moved his kisses from her neck to her ear. She turned her head in an attempt to catch his mouth with hers. He recoiled at the feeling of her breath at his lips, the smell of whiskey filling his nose. "No kissing" he stated, his only demand of the night. He looked into her eyes to make sure she understood that he was serious about it. A smirk slowly graced her lips as she drawled "You got it Suga"

With that Sam stood up in front of her, as he looked down on her frame. He slowly started to strip, a task that had become second nature considering his new occupation. He'd always been okay with his body, acknowledging that he had what most men and women would consider a great build. So he had no lack of confidence when stripped down to even the smallest of shorts. But this was different. This time he was stripping for a stranger, that they both knew would end up in sex.

Her lips curled into a broad smile as slid his jeans off, quipping "Well I know why you have the name "White Chocolate"" indicating that his size rivaled the myth of black men, although he was white. Sam sighed, choosing to ignore her comment and push forward with his task. He reached down to her waist, untying her dress. He then kneeled, taking the bottom of her boots to his chest, he slowly unzipped the leather that started at her knee and ended at her feet, slipping them off one at a time. She seemed to enjoy having him in such a subservient position, smirking at how painstakingly slow he worked while lightly digging her heel into his bear skin.

He then stood up, straddling her legs. Pulling closer to her, she pressed a kiss to his abs, running her fingers lightly over them appreciating the superficial of his beauty. She looked up at him with pure seduction as he slid her dress down her arms, leaving her in nothing but her bra and panties. He quickly removed her bra, revealing her breast, a sight that would have normally turned any red blooded American teenaged boy into goo on sight. However Sam's eye gazed over her topless body as if he'd seen her nude before. He pushed her shoulders down onto the bed, as he positioned himself between her thighs. She rolled up to her elbows and smiled as he pulled down his shorts, and stroked himself. He assumed she thought it was because he was so aroused by her, he had to control himself. But it was really because his mind kept drifting to other places, other topics, and if he was going to force himself to do this, he would have to stay in the moment. He quickly retrieved a condom from his coat pocket and opened it, sliding it onto himself. Sam then turned to the bed, grabbing and snatching her panties down and off of her elevated hips.

She readily opened her self up for him, as he crawled on top of her, wasting no time with any more foreplay or pleasantries. He didn't even take the time to situate themselves properly in bed, choosing instead to lay her across the top of the comforter, their bodies parallel to the pillows. He penetrated her, sliding deep inside her of her sex, with little hesitation. While giving her long deep strokes, Sam's eyes slammed shut, as his mind drifted again, to where it always went late at night, to her. Not the woman writhing in pleasure underneath him at that moment, but to the woman he loved. To the woman who held his heart, the only one he felt he could trust with it. To the woman who he would give anything to have back in his arms at that moment. The woman he never let go of. He pictured her, her smooth brown sun kissed skin, as it glowed under artificial lights and paper streamers the night he first really looked at her. The way her lips were full, soft and lush, with a hint of bubble gum from her gloss. The adorable way her nose scrunched when she would giggle. He dreamt of Mercedes.

Sam began to pump harder as he remembered her body under his, and how it felt to be so intimate with her. How warm her skin grew at the slight touch of his hand. How the additional flesh of her body cushioned him as he slowly stroked her, unlike now, which felt like bone crashing and rubbing against bone. The jiggle and motion of her breast with each pump, as he made love to her, carefully not wanting to cause her any additional pain. The single tear that left her eye, as he slowly penetrated her. The way her walls gave way for his manhood, as they squeezed and hugged it in a welcoming manner, her body curving and conforming just for him, as he slid deep into her. The way she smelled like vanilla as he buried his face into her neck as he slowly plundered into her. The way his name sounded on her lips, as she called out to him. It was melodic, soothing, and beautiful like she was. His name on her lips was as extraordinary as she made him feel. She was his love, his only love.

He gripped the sheets as he began to speed up his hips. He bit his lips, as he remembered the smile the graced hers. "I love you Sam" she sighed as he began to pump faster. "Sammy I love you" she moaned as she gripped his for arm as he gently slid his hand into hers, inter lacing their fingers. "I love you" she giggled as he tickled her. "I. Love. You" the last time he saw her, as he left for Kentucky. He pressed and hunched and pumped until an orgasm struck him, shutting his body down where he had no control of what he said or did. All he could see, hear, taste, was Mercedes.

Suddenly, her beautiful smile fell as tears slid softly from her eyes, around the curve of her cheek to her chin. She shook her head, as if she couldn't look at him any more, as if she were disgusted by the sight of him. Confused and scared he opened his eyes to find himself in the motel room, and a stranger under him, breathing hard, and shivering. Sam then recalled where he was, and what he was doing there. Holding on firmly to the condom, he slid out of this unfamiliar woman, and sat up, as reality sank in. Wordlessly he got up and headed to the bathroom to clean up. Closing the door behind, him he turned on the faucet and washed himself off in the sink. He then washed his hands, and splashed water on his face. As he gazed at his reflection, he didn't see himself, the young carefree teenager that he portrayed to the world. In stead he saw a man, jaded and angry. A man who had his first love ripped away from him, through no fault of his own. I man lost.

Out of the bathroom, he found the strange woman sitting on the bed with her bra and panties back on. She lit a cigarette, obviously not caring about the no smoking sign next to her head. She eyed him as he silently waked to his pile of discarded clothes to get dressed. "So who is she?" she questioned in a drawl. Sam looked up at her confused, wondering who she was referring to. "The girl Mercedes? Who is she?" she clarified. Sam then realized that through his memory he must have called her name, a not so Freudian slip. Sam silently continued to get dressed, pulling on his jeans, pretending she never brought up the subject.

"Well whoever she is, you must hate her" the woman shrugged, as she ashed her cigarette onto the cheap, flat carpeting.

"Why do you ask?" Sam questioned as he zipped his jeans, refusing to look at her.

"Because you just fucked me like you hated me" she smirked. "but you called her name"

Sam's head shot up, as he prepared to throw on his t-shirt. He looked into her light brown eye as he tried to rationalize his actions. All he could come up with, and all he was willing to say to this stranger was "Actually I love her"

"Well she must'a pulled a doozie on you" she chuckled.

Sam pulled over his shirt, refusing to discuss something so secrete to his heart as Mercedes to this woman. She could give a shit about what went down between them, or even who Mercedes was. He figured she already had a physical piece of him, and there was no way in hell he would allow her to get an emotional part too. "I'm getting out of here" he stated as he pulled on his shoes.

"Fine" the woman shrugged "I'll pay for the hour" she refered to the room rate.

She stood up and pulled on her dress, as Sam headed for the door. "Oh" she called out to him, which made him realize moments ago he was deep inside of her, and she has no earthly clue what his name is. "Here's a little tip" she grinned as she held out two hundreds. Part of him wanted to take the money, for time and services rendered. For the pain that wasn't forgotten but made worse by this tryst. The other half, however, wanted to slap that money out of her hand, and explain he was not a whore, or some little boy toy for her to buy and sell. That he was a man, a man that had been loved, and cared for by a woman of quality.

He decided to play it cool however. Sam walked up to her, and brought his face extremely close to hers smirking "I didn't do it for the money" He planted a kiss to her forehead and smirked "Night Carol" indicating that although she never took the time to learn his name, he had hers.

As he walked out to the parking lot to his truck he heard "How about we-"but before she could finish, he quickly turned and replied "No" never needing to touch her, or that motel again.

He sat quietly in his vehicle, staring at the steering wheel. It was a colder night in Kentucky, however the chill didn't reach Sam. He was numb to everything at that moment, his life, his situation, and his emotions. Everything that once gave him either great rage, or immense joy, now didn't even register to him as far as feelings. He took his phone out of his pocket and checked that it was 12:30 am. He looked across the highway at his place of employment, the parking lot even more packed than when he crossed the street to the motel. This was now his life he thought as watched the world Stallions flash in neon lights. He mindlessly hit the button on his phone, and the last web page he visited that day popped up. It was his FaceBook timeline. He re-read the single sentence that caused him to act so recklessly that night: **Mercedes Jones is now in a relationship with Shane Tinsley**. His stomach dropped again as he tossed his phone into the passenger seat next to him. He gripped the steering wheel for dear life, wanted to scream, or yell, but knowing that doing either would be of no use. What was done was done, and she was no longer his.

As he prepared to head home, Sam pulled down his sun visor to take a quick look in the mirror at himself, to make sure that any additional glitter was gone before he made it in. That's when it fell into his lap. The prom picture he had taken with his two dates. He placed his hand over Rachel and took a moment to stare at the two of them, still happy, still naïve, still together. He traced the outline of her brown skin, wishing he could feel the real thing again. As he caressed her through the photo he sadly reminded himself "She's gone" He then looked at himself next to her, the goofy kid, with the scruffy, shaggy bright blond hair, and a bolo tie. He then looked in the mirror, into his own eyes. Gone were the longer, blonder, hair, and the optimistic smile of that night. He touched his face whipping away a stray piece of glitter as he added "and so is he"

Sam replaced his picture, and silently turned on his truck. He cranked the radio loud, as Sweet Emotions by Aerosmith blared. He rolled down both windows in the front hoping the cool air and the music would be enough to keep him awake as he made the half hour journey back to his new home, still wishing he would see his old one and her again.


End file.
